


Love Me Do

by alba17



Category: The Beatles, Torchwood
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-06-07
Updated: 2010-06-07
Packaged: 2017-10-09 23:33:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/92793
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alba17/pseuds/alba17
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack spent a long time kicking around the UK, waiting for the Doctor. Sometimes it had its moments. Sometimes those moments happened in phone boxes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love Me Do

**Author's Note:**

>   
> **Beta**: [](http://dvanulya.livejournal.com/profile)[**dvanulya**](http://dvanulya.livejournal.com/) Thanks for overcoming technical difficulties and catching all my repeated words and inappropriate epithets. All mistakes are mine (especially the end which is unbeta'd - although I should note that the ending was [](http://dvanulya.livejournal.com/profile)[**dvanulya**](http://dvanulya.livejournal.com/)'s idea).  
> **Disclaimer**: I own nothing. No copyright infringement intended. This is a fictional treatment of John Lennon as he portrayed himself in the movie _A Hard Day's Night_. Any resemblance to actual historical events is purely coincidental. I made no attempt at accuracy with regard to The Beatles' chronology.  
> **A/N:** Not your usual RPS, since it doesn't have any actors from the show, but instead a real, albeit dead, person paired with a fictional character. Inspired by themes of "historical eras" and "enclosed spaces" in the [Torchwood/Dr. Who Porn Battle](http://cyus.livejournal.com/8461.html) sponsored by [](http://51stcenturyfox.livejournal.com/profile)[**51stcenturyfox**](http://51stcenturyfox.livejournal.com/) and[](http://cruentum.livejournal.com/profile)[**cruentum**](http://cruentum.livejournal.com/) way back in AUGUST. That's when I started this and it's been on the back burner ever since. Why aren't there more stories about Jack and famous people? *stares at fandom*

[  
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Jack pressed the phone to his ear in an effort to hear better. The slow path was grindingly frustrating in its technological backwardness. He sighed, counting the years until wireless technology would finally kick in. The crackle and hiss from the handset continued unabated.

“I said, by the time I got there, it was gone. Kaput. Nothing but a bunch of burn marks on the grass,” Jack relayed into the phone.

He put a finger into his ear to block the sudden swelling of noise from somewhere nearby, a kind of low roar.

“Yeah? Well, those jokers had better get their act together. That’s the last time I’m rushing all over the country before I have all the facts,” he huffed. Maybe some day someone at Torchwood would listen to him, for once. He’d come all this way to Liverpool for nothing.

A century and more he’d have to wait until the Doctor came. That’s what the dark-haired girl had said. He’d almost lost track of the number of years it had been since she’d given him that creepy Tarot card reading, but he was hanging his life on her prediction. Surely the Doctor would come soon.

Just a few years ago, sometime in the 50’s, he’d seen reports of a mysterious man with suspicious powers appearing in London, accompanied by a young blonde girl with a big, open smile. They’d disappeared without a trace shortly thereafter. He’d run to London, scoured the neighbourhood they were spotted in, questioned the locals, but he lost the trail again. He assumed the Doctor had flitted off in the TARDIS to some other far-flung time and place, oblivious to Jack’s long years of plodding exile just a few hours away in Cardiff.

He heard some heated chattering through the phone line, the sound flickering in and out with the bad connection. He sighed again. God damn it.

Jack looked out the small, smeared window of the phone box and spoke into the phone again. “What? Sorry, there’s a lot of noise here.” There was no obvious reason for the increasing noise.

The sound was definitely getting louder, though. What was it? He heard some high-pitched screaming and the sound of a large group of people running. What the hell?

Next thing he knew, an attractive young man with bowl-cut hair and a suit came careening around the corner. He yanked open the door of the phone box and squeezed himself in with total disregard for the fact that Jack was already there using the phone. The kid looked warily out the door, pulling his head down into the collar of his jacket and scrunching up his shoulders as if to disappear, yet a mischievous smile played on his lips. He was clearly enjoying himself. He seemed completely unaware of Jack’s presence.

“Listen, I’ll have to call you back, something’s come up.” Jack quickly hung up the phone on the angry response of the person on the other end of the line. After all, the close proximity of a cute, suit-clad arse crowded out all other considerations. In this case, literally.

At that moment, dozens of screaming girls, and a few boys, came clattering around the corner at a dead run, coat tails flying, broad smiles on their faces. The kid grinned impishly as they completely bypassed him.

“Well, hello there,” Jack greeted his surprise guest once the crowd had passed, giving him the once over. At least as much as he could given the fact that the stranger’s arse was shoved up against Jack’s hip. _Nice_. “Hiding from someone?”

The young man started, apparently just realizing there was someone else there. “Oh, sorry. Didn’t realize. Me fans,” he said, tilting his head toward the frenzied throng. His chest was heaving and he looked positively giddy.

“Fans, eh?” His gaze raked the new arrival up and down with a bit more attention. “Captain Jack Harkness.” Jack held out his hand in the cramped space, lopsided grin in place, entering full flirt mode, teeth flashing wolfishly. As the kid turned to face him, their knees knocked against each other, then they had to shift their torsos awkwardly and Jack somehow ended up holding his elbow instead of shaking his hand.

“I’ve been told I have fans across seven galaxies and five parallel dimensions.” Jack smirked, snorting at his own self-importance before his face fell into a wistful expression. The stranger scrunched his eyebrows in confusion. Jack looked at the newcomer’s face again. There was something familiar about him – he couldn’t put a finger on it.

Shaking himself out of his brief reverie, Jack leaned in, pitching his voice low and intimate: “But enough about me. Right now I want to know all about you.” His hand cupped the other man’s elbow and his fingers stroked the suit fabric pulled taut over the bend in his arm. He stared intently into his eyes and the stranger stared back, his attention caught by the intense blue of Jack’s eyes.

Although usually not at a loss for words, the young man fumbled, gulping. “Ummm, yeah, well, it’s just...the fans...they’ve gone crazy. Gotta keep ahead of ‘em. Don’t know what would happen if they caught up with us.” He kept up with Jack’s stare and somehow found his hand gravitating to Jack’s elbow.

“Us?” Jack asked. He didn’t see anyone else being chased.

“Well, me and my mates. Not sure where they ended up,” the kid explained, peering down the street.

“So, what are they fans of, exactly?” Jack shifted to face him directly, the long skirts of his coat brushing against the younger man’s legs.

“What, you don’t know who I am?” The stranger looked dumbfounded.

“Nope.” Jack’s grasp of contemporary culture was limited, as usual. Why bother when hopefully soon he’d be gone from this primitive piece of rock? But he felt like he should know who this guy was – it was just out of his mind’s reach.

He gave up on figuring out who he was for the moment.

“All I know is that you have a glorified idea of the size of a phone box. Although I’m happy to share with you,” he said. He let his hand slide slowly up the kid’s arm. Yeah, he was in a phone box, with windows, where anyone could see. So much the better – a little danger might add a fun edge to the proceedings. He had to entertain himself somehow in this godforsaken backwater.

“It’s not everyone I’d be so accommodating for.” Jack took in the young man’s touchably full head of brown hair, attractive features, and slim, shapely build. “Nice suit, by the way. What’s your name?”

“Er, John.”

John. That figured.

“Very pleased to meet you, John with Many Crazed Fans. Maybe you can make me one too,” he said, as he very gently smoothed down the boy’s hair, carefully, as if capturing a bird. This kid was intriguing. Whatever was going on here with John and the wild crowd of fans was definitely something new and different and he wanted in on it. Things had been pretty damned boring for the last decade or so.

He watched the kid’s face for any signs of discomfort, but John just stared, wide-eyed. Taking that as a go, Jack leaned in to brush his lips against his as he pushed his fingers through the thick mop of dark hair. The younger man shivered slightly and closed his eyes as he relaxed into the touch of Jack’s hand.

“I think you deserve a break, don’t you?” Jack said quietly, pulling back to look at John’s face, but staying close, intimate. “All that running around and getting chased – pretty stressful.” His fingers swept through the kid’s hair again, curling around the back of his head and dropping to his neck. He just mewed in response, and Jack could feel his body relaxing under his touch, see it in the way his shoulders began to slump towards him.

The inevitable gravitational pull of the Harkness charm. _Oh yeah_. He still had it.

He pulled John toward him again, his hand possessive and warm around his neck, and the other man’s pink lips parted in anticipation. Delicately pressing his lips to John’s, Jack was surprised at how soft and yielding they were, like a perfectly ripe peach. Gently, he moved his lips against them, and he could feel the kid’s assent in the bend and give of his body, and the slight shifting of his hips under his suit coat. John’s hands wavered in the air, in searching movements, as if measuring Jack’s dimensions, taking stock of his suddenly very physical presence. They fluttered vaguely for a bit before settling tentatively on the bulky wool draping Jack’s shoulders.

Jack pressed his lips harder and slipped his hand under John’s jacket and around his waist, the smooth cotton of the shirt sliding under his palm, the skin radiating warmth through the fabric. He pulled the young man’s hips closer to his and John made a small noise in his throat, opening his mouth to Jack’s.

Jack angled his head to fit their mouths together even more closely, his hand cupping the young man’s jaw. His tongue probed the wet warmth with no resistance. He could feel John melting against him, his mouth opening even wider, welcoming, and Jack pushed his tongue further, delicately teasing it along the boy’s tongue to see how far he could go, his cock getting harder with every slip and slide. John began moving his own tongue against Jack’s, joining in and providing his own back beat to the dance they were engaged in. He pushed up into Jack’s embrace, and his hands broke free from their position atop Jack’s shoulders, moving up and down his back, gripping the thick fabric of his coat, then finally sliding under the coat where he could feel the muscle of Jack’s back firm and solid under the thin covering of his shirt.

“Fuck,” the kid gasped against Jack’s mouth, slamming Jack back the short distance to the other wall of the phone box, which rattled in its frame. Suddenly he was all heat and frenzy, pulling on Jack’s shirt and pushing his tongue deep into the older man’s mouth and Jack responded avidly, grabbing John’s arse with both hands and pulling their hips flush together, grinding his crotch against John’s, his erection tight and full, wanting.

“God, you feel good,” Jack groaned, feeling the hard column of the kid’s cock rubbing against him through their clothes, the fabric pulled taut and tented, the metal of the zip of John’s trousers providing a degree of friction as the younger man humped against him shamelessly, now latching his mouth against Jack’s jaw, sucking and biting, laving it with his tongue. His hands were thrust into Jack’s hair, holding his head with surprising desperation, as if imbued with the energy of the crowd of crazy kids that had been chasing him.

Jack tried to remember what that felt like, the wild and messy heedlessness of youth, running through the streets with no other cares, no other thought except “go!” and “I want!” He couldn’t. The memory was gone. He could feel only a fleeting shadow of it in moments like these, when everything else fell by the wayside and all he wanted was the sweaty grip of a stranger’s palm twisting his cock into orgasm, their cock or fingers roughly shoved up his arsehole as they both sank into oblivion for a few lost moments before rejoining the onward rush of time.

The slap of cool air hitting his cock brought him back to his senses as the John ripped open his zip and thrust his hand down his trousers, searching and grasping, kneading his rock hard erection like it was going to spurt gold, messily smearing Jack’s face with open-mouthed kisses.

“Hey, slow down, buddy,” Jack said before he took control of the kiss again, mouth firm against John’s and hands assertively gripping his hips, while he involuntarily rutted his now bare cock against John’s frustratingly clothed one.

“Hold on,” he licked into John’s lips, tracing the outline of his mouth with his tongue, rubbing his back and arse soothingly, and John calmed a bit, still arching his whole body into the kiss, into Jack’s crotch, begging for the touch, ready for more.

The impatience of youth, Jack thought to himself. Still, they _were_ in a _phone box_._ With windows_. Now that things were cresting, he was getting impatient and okay, slightly nervous. (How old was this kid anyway?) Best to move things along. No need for an indecency charge, especially not away from his home turf where it wasn’t as easy to grease the wheel, and not with Someone who Had Fans.

He quickly undid John’s trousers and pulled out his cock, appreciating its form and heft for a brief moment, and wishing they were somewhere more private so he could really take his time with this kid. Oh, the things he could teach him. He wrapped his large hand around both their cocks and John’s hips bucked as he gasped. Jack smiled, enjoying the moment, and he closed his eyes at the feeling of the smooth silky skin against his own, the exquisite friction as he started to rub up and down, twisting at the top, the warm pearls of liquid emerging from their cocks spurring him on and making his mouth water. John was gone, eyes scrunched up and closed, his crotch thrusting up into Jack’s hand with abandon, making small grunts of pleasure, and very soon he came, covering Jack’s hand with his cum and collapsing against him in a boneless heap.

Jack kept his grip on their cocks and finished himself off, enjoying the feeling of John's young body against his, the slippery mess between them, feeling thoroughly debauched. He could feel the slowing thump of John’s heartbeat through his shirt and he put his hand there, pressing against it, the sleek firmness of youth careless beneath his palm.

John raised his head from Jack’s shoulder and kissed him gently, then briefly rested his forehead against Jack’s. Jack cupped his jaw with his hand, thumb grazing his cheek and sliding his fingers into his hair again, pulling him in for a deeper kiss. After a dizzying moment, John glanced out the grubby window of the phone box at the now quiet street.

“I think it’s safe to say I’ll probably never look at a phone box the same way again,” he said, hands stroking Jack’s chest and leaning into him, still messy and undone. “I best go find my mates.” Looking down, he said, “Oh.” Jack pulled out a handkerchief and wiped them up as best he could, stuffing it back in his pocket when he had finished.

“So…I’m in Cardiff, if you get round that way,” Jack said as they put themselves together again, trousers zipped and shirts tucked in, feeling slightly awkward now that this impromptu encounter was winding down. The kid was lovely, but he had things to do, places to go. He hoped he wasn’t going to be difficult about this. There was just a hint of puppy dog eyes in the way John was looking at him and it was making him nervous. At least he could count on his discretion, since he was Someone With Fans.

“Cardiff? Never been there. Maybe I should make a trip,” John said with a smirk.

There was a scuffle of feet outside the phone box and a sudden, insistent rapping at the door. Another mop-headed fellow in a suit waved frantically through the window.

“John! John!”

John looked at Jack for a moment, hesitant and blushing, and Jack was reminded again of how young he was. John pulled open the phone box’s door.

“What you doing in here, mate? We gotta go,” his friend said, all in rush. The new guy noticed Jack and looked him up and down suspiciously. “Who’s this, then?”

“Er…that’s Jack.” John gestured between them. “Ringo.”

Jack held out his hand and flashed a brilliant smile. “_Captain_ Jack Harkness, at your service. Ringo. Unusual name. Sounds familiar.”

“Uh, yeah,” John said, clearing his throat. “Jack was just helping me with some directions.”

“Wot? In a phone box?” Ringo lifted an eyebrow.

“Very complicated directions, they were. Trying to get away from the fans.”

“I see, well. Speaking of, we need to get going, Paul’s granddad is lost, we gotta find him.”

“Yeah.” John looked back at Jack. “Well, thanks. You know, for the directions. Give me your phone number in case I end up in Cardiff some time.”

“Sure.” Jack scribbled it on a scrap of paper he found in his copious pockets. “Love to show you around, give you a tour. You know I’m good at finding my way around.” He winked at John.

John ducked his head and looked embarrassed. “Yeah.”

Ringo looked between the two of them, frowning. “Come on, let’s go, John.”

“OK, well, bye.” John held out his hand.

“Bye,” Jack said softly, shaking his hand and discreetely caressing the other man’s wrist with his thumb..

John hustled out of the phone box and he and Ringo quickly walked down the street. He looked back once at Jack before they turned a corner and went out of sight.

Well, wasn’t that interesting, Jack thought as he gathered himself together to go on his way. He dropped the handkerchief in a bin as he strutted down the street towards the train station. Just who was that guy? He looked awfully familiar. So did his friend.

He stopped at a café for a coffee, then headed for the train. Pulling open the station door, he noticed a poster advertising a pop band. It was black and white and showed four young lads with identical mop top haircuts. Just like John and his friend. In fact…

He looked at the advert more carefully: “The Beatles – A Hard Day’s Night”.

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He looked carefully at the faces on the poster. Thought back to John's eyes just a few inches away from his in the phone box. Looked at the poster again.

Then it all came together and his heart skipped a beat: the crazy fans, the identical outfits and haircuts, the names John and Ringo. The others’ names were…he dredged them out of his school memories…Paul, and…that’s right, George! He played the lead guitar. John and Paul wrote the songs and sang.

Even 51st century kids knew about The Beatles. When he was 14, he’d aced the Ancient Earth Culture exam and spent the better part of a day looking for their songs on the Galactic WebNet.

The Beatles! John Lennon! He laughed aloud and felt a giddy surge of happiness. This took some of the sting out of the failed mission that had brought him to Liverpool in the first place. Then he made a mental note to add John Lennon to his list of famous people he’d had sex with.

He felt a renewed spring in his step as he walked under the high vaulted ceiling of the train station and looked for his departing track. Maybe that century of waiting for the Doctor had some compensations, after all.


End file.
